


(I want you to) Stay

by BeautyOnFyre



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Post Loki Mind Control, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautyOnFyre/pseuds/BeautyOnFyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scratching of a pen on paper was soothing in a way that nothing else could be. Clint sighed as he relaxed in the air duct above Coulson's office. Knowing that his handler was still alive after Loki's attack reassured him that he didn't cause yet another death while under Loki's mind control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(I want you to) Stay

The scratching of a pen on paper was soothing in a way that nothing else could be. Clint sighed as he relaxed in the air duct above Coulson's office. Knowing that his handler was still alive after Loki's attack reassured him that he didn't cause yet another death while under Loki's mind control.

"You don't have to sit in the vents. I do have a sofa in here that I'm told is quite comfortable," Coulson said it without ceasing his paperwork. Through the grate in the vent, Clint could see that he hadn't even looked up.

He did, however, make another silent motion with his hand for Clint to come out, knowing the archer was silently watching him. With a sigh, Clint undid the fastenings on the grate and dropped into a roll onto the plush carpet of Coulson's office. He righted himself and scanned the room before making his way to the offered sofa and sinking into it. He could feel most of the tension bleeding out of his body with the action as he took a deep breath and released it.

"I don't blame you for my injuries."

"I do."

"It's not your fault that you were compromised."

"It is. I was weak."

"You didn't stab me with a magical scepter."

"I may as well have."

"Clint."

At the mention of his name, the archer leveled his gaze at his handler, who gazed unflinchingly back. "You are not responsible for any of this. Greater men have fallen for less. This is not your burden to bare."

"You have no right to tell me what burdens my conscience. You could have died! We all thought you did! I'm supposed to have your back, Phil, not stab it!" He buried his face in his hands, feeling his frame sag and muscles tense at the same time in his moment of vulnerability. "When I woke up, they all still thought you were dead. Fury had pulled a dirty move and tossed your vintage trading cards on a table, soaked and spattered with your blood. Told them you didn't make it. Natasha told me this when I woke up after she smacked Loki out of my head. I was going to kill myself. Throw myself off the helicarrier or maybe a tall building on an opp if they watched me too closely before then. You were dead and I couldn't stop it. I wasn't there. You had my back but I didn't have yours."

Phil sighed. "That's the last thing I would want if I died. I wouldn't want anyone on the team to feel like they let me down or were responsible for my death, least of all you."

A silence reigned as Phil put down his pen and stretched his wrist before turning away from his papers to eye Clint critically. The blond was a mess. He probably hadn't slept much in the last four days, especially since Phil knew that the man had been watching him from the vents for most of the previous days. His eyes were red rimmed, his blond hair, though clean, looked dull and wasn't styled, his shoulders rounded to give him the look of a feeble man and his breathing was unsteady with irregular breaths in and out. He was a man in shambles; a dim projection of his wholesome self.

"I remember when I first met you. I shot you to get you to come to SHIELD. I remember the look of hatred in your eyes as you realized that with a single bullet, I took away your options so easily." Clint looked up at him with a forlorn expression but didn't say anything. "I also remember becoming your handler after you gave everyone else a run for their money. SHIELD wanted you so badly as a probational agent that they funneled you through every possible junior and senior handler until you ended up in this office with some blood caked on your knuckles and Fury leaning against my desk as he yelled at you for smashing Rodriguez's nose in when he told you that he didn't like your shirt. Fury took every other agent under my watch off of my radar so that I could handle you alone."

Clint let out a snort at the story, remembering his start with Coulson fondly. "I remember the first time you called me by my first name. I went home for the holidays and took you with me because Fury was sure you would've finally succeeded in burning down part of the helicarrier the moment that I left. You met my mother, father and brother. My nieces and nephew. Everyone loved you, though you weren't sure why. My brother trapped us under the mistletoe and made us kiss. You called me Phil when we finally pulled away. Just a whisper but I heard it."

Clint's blue eyes met Phil's and Phil stood up from his chair to sit on the other side of the sofa. He held his arms open to Clint, who scrambled across the couch into Coulson's arms. Phil pulled the younger man to sit on his lap and rocked them both back and forth, Clint burrowing his face into Phil's neck. Hugging the archer closer to him, Phil felt his fingers ache to soothe away Clint's worries and rubbed a steady hand up and down Clint's back. He slowly massaged his muscles as he went until Clint was relaxed in his hold.

"I missed you, Phil."

"When?"

"I woke up and saw Natasha there with me. She told me that she had been sitting beside me since the day before, waiting for me to wake up. I wished it could have been you there because the first thing I remember thinking when I woke up in my room was how much I missed you." Clint placed a hesitant kiss to Phil's neck before he breathed in his handler's scent deeply.

"I missed you too Clint." He let the silence grow between them until Clint started to move like he wanted to leave. Phil's hands tightened around Clint's back. "Stay? Maybe just a bit longer?"

Clint pulled his face from Phil's neck with a shy grin. "You want me to stay?"

"I want you to stay."

Clint's eyes roved across Phil's face looking for any indication of a lie. Not finding one, he nodded. "Okay."


End file.
